[OTA] Final Details

[intotherough]

A couple months work with a pair of surprisingly capable helpers - and a third who was good at taking care of the more delicate odds and ends - and the pub was pretty much done. Not open yet, of course, but if you managed to get past the tall Scot working on the outside window, you'd see a fairly impressive sight.

Comments

[a_sudden_change]

She actually really is just wandering by, walking the streets of Town, hunched into a coat and her hands stuffed into her pockets but her steps will slow as she approaches Ben and his pub.

By the time she pulls up even with him, she'll be admiring the place and his handiwork.

"Opening soon, huh?"

[intotherough]

"Another week," Ben replies as he carefully smooths the C into place before glancing over at the slim blonde. He'd seen her about Spade Castle when he'd been over to bother Victor, but she was new. New-ish, at least.

"The first Friday in a new month ought to be a good way to start up, unless the snow turns into ice or some such."

[a_sudden_change]

"Guess I'll have to be first in line," she grins at him. "Maybe I'll bring a friend or two."

God knew she and Jack could both use a drink. And Peter, for that matter.

"It looks good."

You know, from what she can see.

[intotherough]

"Aye, we spent a couple months cleaning it all up, but I like the way it turned out." He pauses as he slides the K out of it's sleeve and cocks a brow at her, his lips quirking up.

"If you haven't found yourself a regular yet, Mackinnon's is more than happy to be the home away from home with more alcohol."

[morallydefunct]

Victor was not so much stopping by to see his handy work...so much as escaping the cake taste testing party that was painfully long, formal and sweet. He was fairly certain if he said, just one more time- 'it's fine' or 'I like it'....Zoe was going to beat him with a pastry spoon.

So after a quick, pleading word with Sophie he left the menu to the ladies (something they were so very much better suited to than he was.)

"You should have made them green." He commented, hands stuffed in his pockets as he frowned at the window.

[intotherough]

"The lamps are green," Ben pointed out. "The travertine tile Zoe kindly picked out for the ceiling is a bit greenish, and the pool table's green. I think Ireland's well represented." And thus the lettering? Gold. They had plaid. He could have made them plaid.

"I got cases of whiskey today, you know."

[morallydefunct]

He smirked a little at that, before leaning against the wall and crossing his arms over his chest. "Never a thing as too much green though." He said in a rather...sardonic fashion.

"Did you now? I don't suppose you've tested the quality of a bottle yet?" It was a must, if you were a pub owner.

[intotherough]

It was because they were such good friends - that and because his sympathies had long been with the IRA, and they both knew it - that Ben didn't point out that he could've painted an accent wall orange.

Well, that and a desire to continue living, he thought as he smoothed on one of the Ns. "I haven't. Have to be in a particular mood to drink alone, you know, and I haven't any women problems at this present time." He wasn't planning to acquire any, either. After Sophie, Ben had come to the conclusion that perhaps the love of his life had jilted him over his job, a decade before.

[bitchwithabite]

Feet brought a woman far out of her way and toward familiar roads, more often than not, when her mind was elsewhere. Occupied with things like fine-tuning her motor control to dual wield and attack effectively. Like how she was handling Jordan's return and integration, and how she was going to get back to Six before the end of the year, if she had her way.

She'd noticed the construction in the last few months, of course, but stopping outside the front door (had it even had a front door last she saw it?) had her eyes sweeping toward the name on the window. MacKinnon's, huh? At any rate, it looked nice -- or, at least, from her peeking, it did. Craving stirred at the thought of being inside a bar again, of having a cold beer in hand and savoring the taste on her tongue. Her hand came up without her intention, aimed toward the door handle. Just...one drink.

The place wasn't even open yet.

[intotherough]

It was not open, but the owner was bent over the pool table lining up a shot - on his 'lunch break' so to speak - and he flicked his eyes up when the door opened, his brows raising up.

"We're not open yet," he tells her as he sends the six-ball into a corner pocket. "Another week yet." He doesn't have a cook yet, though it can't be that hard to manage a deep fryer.

[bitchwithabite]

She's a little bit startled at the sound of his voice, and it has her shaking her head. "Yeah, no, sorry. Looks great from the outside; had to see if it measures up on the inside, y'know? And it...really fuckin' does, actually." One brow climbs a little bit, though.

"If you're a week from opening, I'm sure I can get one beer outta you, huh? Pay ya for it and everything." She's here after all. May as well test drive, right? Just one. One won't kill her or ruin her recovery. No one even needs to know about it. Especially not Jordan, Ethan, or Clive.

Or Victor, for that matter.

"Our little secret."

[intotherough]

"There a reason you're not going to one of the bars that's actually open, lass?" Not that he's not hanging up his cue and moving behind the bar. Might as well test the taps, and he's always been more of a whisky man. Victor and Monty are the same, just with different sorts of whisky.

He gets down a pint and nods at the taps. "I've got Guinness, Harp, Stella Artois, Innis & Gunn and some thing called Angry Orchard. What'll it be?"

[thecutdiamond]

It's not the most ideal weather for a woman on crutches to be in, perhaps, but she's steadier now than she used to be and she does still need to go to Town twice a week for physical therapy.

But getting through snow and some patches of ice is still hard work, so when she recognizes the familiar figure working at the window, she'll take a moment to quell her pride before she approaches properly and speaks.

"You wouldn't happen to have a chair I could sit a spell in, would you, Mr. Mackinnon?"

[intotherough]

He's a bit surprised to see the former Queen out in this mess of snow and slush, and so he pauses before he answers. "Aye, Lady Rachel," he says with a nod as he smooths the final letter into place and moves towards the door.

"A whole room of empty chairs and barstools that you can pick from," he adds as he unlocks the door and holds it open for her. "What brings you out in this, m'lady?"

[thecutdiamond]

There's a faint smile of gratitude as she makes her way carefully into the pub, "The physical therapy must go on, even in this weather." It wouldn't do, after all, to fall behind-- although that is perhaps more by her standards than anyone else's.

She picks one of the closer chairs, balancing herself carefully into the chair with a sigh of relief she can't quite bite back, lines indicating the beginnings of pain she hadn't quite noticed smoothing out just slightly.

"Thank you." A glance about, and another quiet smile, "Quite the place you've got here."

[intotherough]

"I suppose it must, at that," Ben says as he hangs up his jacket. "Seems to be going well enough, though. Want a drink?" It was a bar, after all, even if he wasn't open yet. He was pretty much stocked, after all.

He might have some wine, he thinks as he picks a bottle of red out of the rack behind him.

"I like it," he says as he uncorks the bottle, smiling a bit. "It's something I always thought of doing but never got around to."